Anything for you
by Yuu-chi
Summary: Just as the click of his bedroom door locking at night was a sound so familiar to Ritsuka, the noise made as Soubi peeled the band-aid free of its wrapping to place on his sacrifice was a sound all to familiar to Soubi and his heart ached for that.


**Anything for you**

The feeling of slick steal beneath his fingers and the faint sound of _click_ as the bolt slides into place are things so familiar to Ritsuka that he often doubts he'd be able to go a complete day with out them. Be that as it may, he doesn't ever have to worry about testing that theory; not if he wanted to wake up in the morning fully intact.

Taking a step back from his bedroom door, he cast one last double-checking look at the smooth lock on his door before heading across the room to his desk.

Ever since he can remember – which is admittedly not very far – it was routine to lock his door at night. Ristuka frowned and rethought that last idea. Not quite that far back. When Siemei had been alive he'd rarely slept in his own room. Curled up next to his elder brother he had no need for locks; Seimei was all the protection he had needed.

It had been after Seimei 'died' that he'd begun to sleep with his door shut and firmly locked to prevent entry. The paint on the other side of the door was peeling and chipping miserably from the poor abuse it took. Ritsuka had never known such a small woman to have such power in her fists. There was a suspicious red stain down near the handle where Ritsuka suspected that Misaki may have split her skin open one night and he resolved to repaint the door the next time his mother was out of the house. He could invite Soubi over to help.

With that last thought Ritsuka's poor face throbbed painfully and his mind drifted to the small kit of medical supplies that Soubi kept freshly stocked in the bottom of his desk. _Call me, _he'd demanded when he first presented Ritsuka with the kit, _Call me when she gets abusive_.

Ritsuka rarely did. If he called Soubi every time the fighter demanded him to, he'd have a phone bill a mile long.

With quick movements that hinted at long practice, Ritsuka jerked the bottom drawer open and after a moment of shuffling the items back and forth, tugged the battered first-aid box from its position, setting it down on the floor before silently joining it.

Tonight's injuries weren't to bad. A small slash to his face, a twisted wrist and a dark crescent shaped circles of blood on his back where his mother's nails had dug in perhaps a bit to far during the tight hug that had come slightly before the tantrum.

_Could be worse_, Ritsuka reflected grimly as he started pulling the supplies from the box. _Could be much worse_.

He sat back on his heels and stared down impassively at the spread on the floor. One hand absently drifted up to his cheek and he could still feel a faint dribble of blood gliding down the side of his face from the scratch. It was a shallow wound compared to many that Ritsuka had taken before, but it still stung nastily, especially when he gave it an inquiring prod.

Wincing, Ritsuka withdrew his bloodstained finger from his face and reached over to grab the fresh towel that Soubi had stowed into the kit as he did at the end of every use. New use, new towel.

Rather then pressing it to his face Ritsuka just sat there dumbly for a minute, staring blankly at the soft surface of the cloth, enjoying the simple blankness the white offered.

He only stirred when a faint _click_ came from his balcony and he glanced over. Not so much with curiosity as with an expecting air. Sure enough Soubi stepped into the room, gently pushing the curtains aside, letting the faint fresh smell of promised rain into the room with him.

Ritsuka's cell phone lay abandoned on his desk with an indigent air that seemed to doubt its own need to exist. It never mattered that Ritsuka reused to call Soubi after a beating. It never mattered because Soubi didn't need him to. He was probably already on the way well before Ritsuka completed the locking of the door.

They simply looked at each other for a moment, Ritsuka through a fringe of dark bangs and Soubi through circular glasses sitting on the edge of his nose with the kind of carefree elegance that Ritsuka knew he would never be able to accomplish.

_You should have called me, _Soubi's look said.

_I didn't want to disturb you, _Ritsuka's face murmured.

_Idiot. I'd do anything for you_.

In swift steps Soubi crossed the distance between them, allowing the curtains to swing back into position as he did so. Kneeling down next to his sacrifice as if he had done this a thousand times, he took the towel from Ritsuka and dabbed ever gently at the small cut on the boys alabaster skin.

This was the third time this week Soubi had come by to patch his sacrifice up after the Ritsuka's mother had finished with him. And each time he stepped into the room he felt his heart break. He was early enough that Ritsuka wouldn't even have a chance to call him, but by the same definition he was late enough that a call should be needed at all.

Just as the _click_ of his bedroom door locking at night was a sound so familiar to Ritsuka, the noise made as Soubi peeled the band-aid free of its wrapping to place on his sacrifice was a sound all to familiar to Soubi and his heart ached for that.

_Shrik._

The band-aid came free and Soubi did his best to be as gentle as he could as he placed it over the cut on Ritsuka's cheek. Immediately a small spot of red bloomed visible on the opposite side of the small strip of plastic as it stemmed the flow of blood.

_Shrik._

Another band-aid to the small cut on his neck that Ritsuka hadn't even noticed.

_Shrik._

And to the scratch below his ear.

Soubi watched as Ritsuka made a move to take the debris from him and winced as he extended his right hand.

Softly, he took Ritsuka by the hand and drew the silent boys arm out towards him. Ritsuka's face colored slightly but he didn't pull away or even flinch until Soubi lightly pressed down on a budding stain of blue in the small of his wrist.

Duly noted, he pulled a roll bandages from the box and wound them around his wrist with the precision of a professional. He didn't bother searching for scissors but simply severed it from the roll with a spell before clipping the end down onto the coarse material.

Ritsuka self-consciously took his hand back and cradled it in his lap as Soubi looked over his young sacrifice with upraising eyes, searching for any other signs of injuries.

It was that woman's fault. That woman that had the gal to call herself Ritsuka's mother. That woman was the reason why Soubi's sacrifice was slipping further and further out of his reach as the days rushed by. That woman was why he felt obligated to stand outside Ritsuka's house even after he'd been brusquely ushered out by a harried Ritsuka. She was the reason he spent so many long nights in only his coat freezing on the pavement that made up the sidewalk.

And she was the reason faint, dark splotches patterned the back of Ritsuka's shirt.

"Take off you shirt." He said softly, seriously.

Ritsuka yelped and looked up at Soubi with an accusing look that screamed _pedophile!_

Soubi ignored the look and dabbed at the nearest stain on the shirt, feeling a sharp pain in his chest as Ritsuka flinched at the contact. He pulled away and showed his bloodied fingertips to Ritsuka and repeated his request.

Shaking, the cat eared boy tugged his shirt off and Soubi was greeted with the sight of a lean and much to skinny body colored in various shades of purple, black and blue. The very sight of those bruises made blood rush to Soubi's head and the a vision of a broken and bloodied Misaki flash past his eyes but he tried his best to steady himself as he ran his fingers along Ritsuka's spine.

Ritsuka shivered at the feeling of Soubi's ice cold fingers ghosting down his spine and curled himself over into a ball.

The marks were made from fingernails Soubi supposed, the shape and the positioning were right. That meant they were thankfully shallow. Short of putting eight band-aids on Ritsuka's poor back, Soubi couldn't think of an effective way to treat them much.

Alcohol swabs and a light smearing of pasty medicinal cream were applied and Soubi pulled Ritsuka's shirt back on the small boy himself before tugging the shaking child into his laps and encircling him with protective arms.

"_This has to stop," _his breath whispered as it chilled the base of Ritsuka's neck.

Ritsuka squirmed further into his arms. _"She can't help it." _

"_She can't keep doing this. You can't let her." _

Ritsuka didn't reply, simply continued to snuggle back into those arms that protected him with much more vigor than a lock ever could.

"_You know what you have to do," _Soubi nestled his chin into Ritsuka's hair.

"_... I can't leave. She needs me." _

"_She can't have you. Not like this."_

"_I wouldn't have anywhere to go." _

This brought a faint smile to the elder mans lips and he the tightening of his arms around Ritsuka's waist spoke for itself. In his lap he felt Ritsuka shake his head.

"_I don't wont to disturb you." _

This six words were the words that were even more familiar to him than the band-aids he handled so frequently. Those words were almost always enough to make him smile at Ritsuka's naivety and yearn to pull the boy ever closer, no matter if the distance between them was already miniscule.

Heeding to these desires he cupped Ritsuka's chin and tipped it up and pressed a soft kiss to the boys lips.

"_Idiot." _He whispered against the smooth skin.

"_I'd do anything for you." _


End file.
